


In This Crowded Room

by Annie17851



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Human Castiel, Light Angst, M/M, Sam Knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:03:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4759226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie17851/pseuds/Annie17851
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stopping at a bar after a hunt, Sam feels the need to explain to Dean that he is an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In This Crowded Room

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet that was in my head. I may have dreamed it. Not really sure.

In This Crowded Room

 

The bar is dingy and crowded. Sam, Dean and Castiel don’t care about that. They actually rather prefer it that way, dim and anonymous. This shape-shifter case has taken a lot out of them, and having a few beers before they head back to the motel is a welcome break. They take seats at a small round table in a corner, grateful for the opportunity to relax. 

“I’ll get the first round,” Dean offers, already eyeing up the blonde bartender. Castiel hides a sigh he doesn’t quite understand. Sam must hear it. Or sense it.

“Cas?” Sam queries, and Castiel turns his head away from watching Dean saunter to the bar. 

“Not hurt, are you?” Sam asks with a frown, thinking Cas has suffered some injury he is keeping from them. Without his powers, he can’t heal himself. 

“No, I’m fine. Just thinking,” Cas replies, surreptitiously glancing back to the bar, where Dean is animatedly ‘chatting up’ the blonde. 

“Yea, me, too.” Sam says. “It’s busy over there,” he comments, and Cas quirks up his lips in a small smile. 

“Indeed,” he agrees, deliberately drawing his sidewise glance away from the bar, where Dean has apparently given up and is returning to the table, three beers in hand. 

“Drink up, hunters!” Dean says, as he hands the beers out around the table. “Another monster has bitten the proverbial dust!” 

He takes his seat again, unconsciously leaning just a bit closer to Cas. Sam manages not to raise an eyebrow. 

“She’s attractive,” Cas notes, hoping his tone is as casual as he doesn’t feel. He withers a bit inside when Dean glances over to the bar again. 

“Yea, she’s okay,” Dean mumbles, taking a long drink of his beer. Sam and Cas drink as well, and Cas is glad he can taste more than molecules these days. 

“So, no go?” Sam asks, just about feeling the ex-angel tense up beside him. 

“I’m not in the mood,” Dean replies quietly, and Sam sees Cas edge a furtive glance in his brother’s direction, only to quickly return his attention to his bottle when he realizes Dean is looking at him. 

Sam’s seen this look before. Sam’s seen his brother wear this look when he sees something he wants. That really cool knife. That awesome gun. That old classic rock tape in a flea market. That piece of pecan pie a guy has at the table next to them in a diner. That angel in the trench coat when Dean didn’t know Sam was noticing. 

But, today. Today, when all three of them could really have died. The look of naked want on Dean’s face makes Sam wish he could be somewhere else. Makes him wish Castiel was still an angel, so Sam could suggest that Cas fly himself and Dean back to the bunker, let them be alone for the day and half it would Sam to drive back home. Makes him want to pull his brother aside for a second before they leave so Sam can tell Dean he’s an idiot. 

Sam clears his throat lightly to get Dean’s attention. His brother distracts himself from watching Cas take another drink. 

“What?” Dean asks, too nonchalantly, finishing his beer in another long swallow. Castiel looks at them, puzzled, thinking he must have missed something in all the background noise. 

Sam has no answer for him, so Dean stands, inspecting the others’ beers. “I’m ready for a refill? You guys ready?”

“No, thank you, Dean,” Cas tells him, watching as Dean heads for the bar again, not even waiting for a reply from Sam. 

Sam notes with interest Dean’s too-casual interaction with the bartender this time. Dean has no interest in her whatsoever. 

Sam finishes his beer and leans a bit closer to Cas. 

“She is attractive, Cas,” he confirms quietly. “But, she’s no angel. And my brother is an idiot.” 

Castiel gives Sam a confused look as the younger Winchester leaves him and walks over to join his brother at the bar. 

“I’m tired, Dean,” Sam says, startling his brother just a bit. 

“Yea, Sammy, we’re all tired. Right now, I’m tired of waiting for my beer.” 

“Dean, do you see everybody in this room?” 

Dean humors his brother and looks around at the crowd, frowning. 

“Are there demons?” he asks, automatically mentally going through the arsenal he has on him at the moment, to remember what weapons he has readily available. 

Sam rolls his eyes. “No, Dean, there are no demons. At least I hope not,” he amends. 

“So, what’s your point?” Dean asks shortly, glancing down the bar to see if there is any hint of his beer’s imminent arrival. 

“I’m tired,” Sam repeats. “I’m going to take a nice, slow walk back to the motel. When I get there, I am getting a separate room. My point is, Cas is sitting at that table waiting for you. My point is, in this crowded room, the only person you have really looked at is Cas. My major point is, you’re an idiot. I’m tired of you being an idiot. See you in the morning,” Sam finishes, walking away and heading for the door, but not before he lands an encouraging slap on his brother’s back. 

The bartender finally comes back with Dean’s beer, and he gives her a quick wink before heading back to the table. He glances at the door, kind of hoping Sam has changed his mind and come back, but no such luck. 

Dean drinks some of his beer on the way to his seat, small boost to his courage that it is anyway. 

“How’re you doing there, Cas? Need another beer?”

“Not yet,” Castiel replies, holding his bottle up so they can both see it’s still almost half full. “Did Sam leave?” he asks worriedly. 

“He wanted to take a slow walk back to the motel,” Dean offers. “Probably just felt like stretching his legs. Not that they need it,” he adds, looking at Cas to see if he understands the joke. 

“Okay,” Cas mutters slowly. Weird things going on with the brothers this evening. 

“What the hell,” Dean mumbles to himself, leaning back and stretching out, easing sore, overused muscles. He reaches with his right leg until he can feel his own calf resting against Castiel’s next to him. Cas raises his head up slowly to look at Dean, not moving his leg away, and the hopeful look on the ex-angel’s face makes Dean’s breath catch, makes his heart stutter minutely.

Dean holds Castiel’s gaze for a few seconds and then looks down at their hands, so close together on the table.

“Apparently, I’m an idiot.” 

 

……….

When the text notification on Sam Winchester’s phone goes off at 3 AM, and he reads Dean’s “Idiot no more,” through sleep-blurred eyes, his only reaction is a mumbled “Finally.” He falls back to sleep laughing to himself.


End file.
